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Stories of the Beautiful Narratives of East–West Interchange at the and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Lee Glazer Complex networks of East–West interchange and cross-cultural encoun- ters—what Cynthia Mills, in her introduction to this volume, describes as “dynamic international relationships”—have played a defining role in the formation and development of the ’s art museums generally, but perhaps most especially at the Freer Gallery of Art where, as the marketing department once proclaimed, “America meets Asia.”1 When the Freer, the first art museum of the Smithsonian, opened to the public in 1923, it was also one of the first American museums to exhibit Asian objects in an aesthetic rather than ethnographic context, juxtapos- ing them with a select group of contemporary American paintings. As the historian Steven Conn has noted, the Freer posited “a fundamental aes- thetic connection” between past and present, East and West that was based on a cosmopolitan ideal of “sameness, commonality, and especially cultural cross-fertilization.”2 Indeed, when the museum’s founder, Detroit industrialist , offered his collection of Asian antiquities and American art of the Aesthetic Movement to the nation in 1904, he explained to Smithsonian Secretary Samuel P. Langley that in spite of their diversity, his artistic holdings were part of an interconnected series constituting a harmonious aesthetic totality. Like James McNeill Whistler, the expatri- ate American who encouraged Freer’s interest in the arts of Asia, Freer believed that the aesthetic harmonies he discerned among the objects in his collection were evidence of a transcendent, timeless, and univer- sally valid “story of the beautiful.” Riffing on Whistler’s conclusion to the “Ten O’Clock” lecture that “the story of the beautiful is already

217 complete—hewn in the marbles of the Parthenon—and broidered, with the birds, upon the fan of Hokusai,” Freer told Langley, “My great desire has been to unite modern work with masterpieces of certain periods of harmonious in spiritual suggestion, having the power to broaden aesthetic cul- ture and the grace to elevate the human mind.”3 Because he thought his collection was best understood and appreciated as a totality, Freer placed a number of restrictions on his bequest, including prohibiting future additions to his American holdings. Recognizing that many new discoveries were still to be made in the field of Asian art and archaeology, however, Freer added a codicil to his will allowing for the occasional acquisition of “very fine examples of Oriental, Egyptian and Near Eastern fine arts.”4 As a result of the tremendous growth of the Freer’s Asian collections over the years and with the opening of the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery in 1987 (to which the Freer is joined architecturally, through an underground gallery space, and administratively, through a shared staff), the Freer’s focus has shifted away from its founder’s emphasis on transhistorical aesthetic commonalities. Despite some significant differences between the Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery in terms of their respective collections and visitor experiences, the two museums are now known, in the shorthand of in- stitutional branding, as “the Smithsonian’s museums of Asian art.” Collections and staff are mostly organized around geographical and cultural areas—China, Japan, Korea, India and the Himalayas, Southeast Asia, the Islamic world, the ancient Near East, America—underscoring cultural differences as well as aesthetic distinctions. Successive generations of curators have contributed to richly documented accounts of the Freer’s masterpieces and the institution’s history and have organized impor- tant exhibitions encompassing a wide range of Asian geography and art history. A survey of those accomplishments is beyond the scope of this essay; the interested reader can consult the museum website at www.asia.si.edu to search collections on- line, learn about past exhibitions and publications, and explore the finding aids for archival and bibliographic materials. Rather than attempting a comprehensive consideration of resources at the Fre- er Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, then, this essay will describe and comment on a small selection of materials related to the of cosmopolitanism on which the Freer Gallery of Art was founded. The intention is to situate Freer’s collecting narrative within a more specific context of cross-cultural import-export. These more complicated narratives are not necessarily linear and certainly not te- leological; they are meant to be understood as sketches, cross-cultural vignettes that might be useful and thought-provoking to teachers, students, and scholars on both sides of the Pacific.

218 East–West Interchanges in American Art “Mr. Whistler Does Unite the Art” Freer’s transformation from capitalist to connoisseur can be dated to 1887, the year he bought a set of Whistler etchings—his first works by the artist—from Frederick Keppel in New York City. That same year he purchased a small Japa- nese fan from Takayangi To-zo-, a Japanese art dealer with a shop on Fifth Avenue. In 1892 he returned to To-zo-’s establishment and bought his first Asian ceramic, an Edo-period Satsuma water jar whose underglaze design, inspired by Chinese ink painting, reminded Freer of a Whistlerian landscape.5 “Collecting comes to mean collecting precisely when a series of haphazard purchases or gifts suddenly become a meaningful sequence,” Mieke Bal has noted.6 Freer established a master narrative—one based on East–West correspondences—early in his collecting ca- reer, and Whistler was clearly destined to be the hero of the story. Following their first meeting in in 1890, the two men developed a close relationship based on mutual esteem and benefit. Whistler not only facilitated Freer’s acquisition of “a fine collection of Whistlers!!—perhaps The collection,” as he promised his patron in 1899, he also encouraged Freer’s burgeoning interest in comparative collecting, urging him to travel East and seek out rare specimens of Asian art to complement his own work. Writing in 1904 to fellow collector John Gellatly (whose contribu- tions to the Smithsonian are discussed by Amelia Goerlitz in this book), Freer noted, “Throughout the entire range of Whistler’s art . . . one feels the exercise of spiritual influences similar to those of the masters of Chinese and Japanese. Of course,” Freer concluded, “Mr. Whistler does unite the art of the Occident with that of the Orient.”7 Both in terms of his stylistic influences and subsequent relationship with a promi- nent collector of Asian art, Whistler is perhaps more closely associated with Asia—or, more accurately, with China and Japan—than any other nineteenth-century Western painter. Because of the close connection between artist and patron, the Freer’s Whis- tler holdings are the most comprehensive of any collection in the world: 130 paint- ings, 946 prints, 174 drawings, and the Peacock Room, as well as a wealth of archival and bibliographic materials, including the Paul Marks book collection, which was donated to the museum library in 2003.8 Whistler’s artistic debt to Asian sources has been thoroughly documented in scholarly literature and museum exhibitions, which have established the ways in which the artist first appropriated, and then more fully synthesized, motifs and pictorial structures from a variety of Chinese and Japanese sources, including porcelain, prints, lacquer, and textiles. This aspect of Whistler’s career is well represented in the Freer, most famously, perhaps, in the Peacock Room, which Whistler compared to a Japanese lacquer box. It was designed to display Kangxi blue-and-white porcelain and Whistler’s own homage to East Asian decorative arts,

Stories of the Beautiful 219 1. James McNeill Whistler, Harmony in Blue and Gold: The Peacock Room, showing La Princesse du pays de la porcelaine 1 (1863–65), 1876–77. Oil paint and gold leaf on canvas, leather, and wood, overall: 166 × 241 ⁄2 × 404 in. Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, Gift of Charles Lang Freer.

La Princesse du pays de la porcelaine, which features the Anglo-Greek beauty Christina Spartali in Japanese robes in an eclectically oriental setting (Figure 1).9 After purchasing the room in 1904 and reassembling it in his Detroit home, Freer, who didn’t care for the slick surfaces or bright colors of Kangxi blue-and- white porcelain, filled its shelves with more than 200 examples of his own collec- tion of Asian ceramics whose textured, tonally subtle glazes harmonized with his collection of American tonalist painting. Some of these vessels, from China, Japan, Korea, Iran, Syria, and elsewhere, were purchased during Freer’s Asian travels, while others were acquired from dealers in New York and Europe. In 1908 he commis- sioned a photographer to document the room, and those images demonstrate the way in which he freely mixed objects from various cultures and cultural epochs, more concerned with their chromatic relationship to one another and the decora- tion of the Peacock Room than with their historical origins (which, in any event, were often inaccurately understood, as subsequent reattributions attest). Freer as- siduously documented all of his purchases, and his personal papers, particularly letters to and from dealers and collectors of Asian and American art, provide a fas- cinating record of the international art market at the turn of the last century. Later, when the Peacock Room was removed from Detroit and reinstalled in the museum in Washington, it was located at the southeast corner of the building, creating a literal link between the Whistler galleries and those rooms dedicated to the arts of

220 East–West Interchanges in American Art China. Registrarial records, gallery plans, photographs, and diaries document the changing array of Asian and American ceramics presided over by Whistler’s Princess since 1923. Of special interest are diary entries dated to 7 and 8 December 1941:

Dec. 7. Honolulu attacked by the Japanese. Japan declared war on the United States. Dec. 8. All Japanese objects removed from Galleries 5, 6, 7, alcove and West corridor, and Japanese pottery from Peacock Room.

The entry continues, noting, laconically, that six pieces of Pewabic pottery, made in Detroit, and three pieces of Chinese replaced the Japanese ceramics.10 The overt in- trusion of political realities has been extraordinarily rare in the documented history of the Freer, but these entries certainly suggest that a closer look at the intersection of policy, diplomacy, and art may yield new insights and narratives. In addition to La Princesse, the Freer owns several other oriental costume pictures that occupied Whistler in the mid-1860s, among them the very first oil painting by the artist that Freer purchased, Arrangement in Flesh Colour and Green: The Balcony. Described by Theodore Child, who saw the work in Paris in 1889, as “a Japanese fancy realized on the banks of the gray Thames,” The Balcony borrows freely from Japanese prints, which Whistler, who never visited Asia, had begun collecting in Paris, possibly as early as 1856. Not coincidentally, Freer began to buy Japanese prints the same year that he acquired The Balcony, prompting him to observe “points of contact” between the two.11 Paint- ings by other Americans in the collection have elicited similar cross-cultural compari- sons, both by contemporaries and by subsequent generations of scholars and critics.12 compared Before Sunrise, a decorative painting that he created for Freer’s parlor, to the work of ukiyo-e artist Kitagawa Utamaro; Freer subsequently displayed Japanese prints in the same room, where they could be easily compared with Dewing’s work. The Four Sylvan Sounds, a pair of bi-fold screens that may have been used by Freer in the Japanese manner, as a room divider, combines a Japanese format, classical figures, and synaesthetic theme.13 Dewing himself was also quite literally a point of contact for Freer and Japanese art. During the time that he was painting The Four Sylvan Sounds he was also acting as his patron’s buying agent for Japanese art at the New York branch of Yamanaka: in addition to purchasing a number of woodblock prints for his patron, Dewing also helped Freer acquire more than a dozen screens from the dealer.14

Two-Way Correspondences In spite of the longstanding interest in studying the ways in which nineteenth-century Western artists and collectors were influenced by Japanese art, relatively little attention

Stories of the Beautiful 221 has been paid to the two-way flow between Whistler and the genera- tion of Japanese artists, critics, and collectors who looked west in the early years of the twentieth century. Japanese scholar Ayako Ono has begun to mine the correspondence contained in the Freer Papers to map the complex networks of ex- change that operated among such notable figures as Freer, Whistler, Ernest Fenollosa, Siegfried Bing, Théodore Duret, and Hayashi Ta- damasa.15 She has also suggested connections between Whistler and the modern print movement in Japan, a topic that could be sup- 2. Alvin Langdon Coburn, portrait of Charles Lang Freer with Whistler’s Venus Rising from the Sea and a Syrian glazed pot, 1909. ported by a survey of the Sackler’s Albumen print. Charles Lang Freer Papers, Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Archives, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC. Muller Collection, which contains nearly 4,000 modern prints, chiefly by Japanese artists but also by Westerners such as Bertha Lum, Helen Hyde, and Charles Bartlett, that illuminate artistic and commercial cross-pollination among American, Euro- pean, and Japanese artists, designers, dealers, and collectors.16 Clearly, this environment of cosmopolitan interchange, mediated by changing eco- nomic, technological, and social circumstances as well as aesthetics, was complex and constituted not one but many overlapping and interconnected narratives. That kind of complexity, however, was generally edited out of the “story of the beautiful” that Freer constructed around his collections. Building records and a “Book of Suggestions” com- piled by Freer and his assistant Katherine Rhoades (and now in the museum archives) provide a literal map for understanding the way in which Freer’s appreciation of Whis- tler influenced the physical organization of the museum as a monument to cosmopoli- tan aestheticism. When the Freer first opened, the entire south side of the building was devoted to Whistler’s works, with Chinese and Japanese art occupying adjacent galleries along the east and west corridors. Less interested in cultural and historical context than in aesthetic correspondence, Freer asserted to his friend Charles Moore, “All great works of art go together, whatever their period.”17 A pair of photographs by Alvin Langdon Coburn, commissioned by Freer in 1909 and now part of the Freer Papers, represents this idea in concrete visual terms.

222 East–West Interchanges in American Art In the first, Freer crouches on the floor, comparing the irides- cent glazes of a Rakka pot to the subtle tonalities of a Whistler nude (Figure 2). In the second, he gazes out at the viewer, pos- ing beside two ancient Egyptian statuettes and a tiny Whistler pastel, a draped figure inspired by ancient Greek Tanagra figu- rines. These images, their multi- ple cultural references contained and unified by the collector’s discerning eye, function as a form of autobiography and as rehearsal for the kind of looking that Freer hoped to encourage at the Freer Gallery. In the context 3. Charles Lang Freer in Japan, 1907. Charles Lang Freer Papers, Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Archives, Smithsonian of Freer’s aestheticism, a tonal- Institution, Washington, DC. ist seascape by Dwight Tryon, for instance, could be understood not only alongside similar works by contempo- raries such as Whistler and Thomas Dewing, but in relationship to masterpieces of the Kano- school of fifteenth-century Japan and Song dynasty ink painting.18 Other images in the museum archives, however, such as photographs of Freer with his international associates—fellow collectors, art dealers, servants—com- plicate the private narrative of aesthetic vision embodied in Coburn’s work (and memorialized in the museum itself) and suggest other ways of understanding the collection that Freer developed. Take, for instance, a photograph made in 1907 dur- ing Freer’s second trip to Japan (Figure 3). Standing in the first row with Freer are his Japanese counterpart Hara Tomitaro- (like Freer a successful businessman and noted collector of Japanese art), and Hara’s wife and daughter. The women’s dress is as purely Japanese as Freer’s is American. Hara, however, holds a Western hat, which was typically the first article of Western clothing adopted by Japanese men in the Meiji era. In the second row on the left is Margaret Watson, Freer’s friend from Detroit whose collecting interests were shaped, in part, by Freer’s counsel and assistance; next to her is the art dealer Nomura Yo-zo-, who had arranged for Freer to visit Hara at Sannotani, his country estate near Yokohama. (The photograph was taken in front of an ancient temple on the estate grounds).19 Unlike Hara and

Stories of the Beautiful 223 his family, Nomura, who was fluent in English and French, wears Western clothing, a form of cross-dressing that visually conveys his ability to move comfortably in Western circles.20 Not shown in the picture, but an important Freer connection all the same, is Nomura’s wife, Michi. Educated at a Japanese school established by Canadian Methodist missionaries and a future officer of the Yokohama YWCA, Michi would travel to America the year after Freer’s Japanese tour, spending several days at his Detroit mansion as part of a publicity tour around the world organized by the Asahi Newspaper Company. A Diary of a Journey around the World, her privately published account of the 1908 trip, included a photograph of the Peacock Room, which later inspired her husband to commission Yoshida Hiroshi, an artist trained in Western techniques, to create a “Crane Room” on the second floor of his art gallery and shop in Yokohama. Although the 1908 trip was the subject of a 2008 exhibition in Japan, Michi’s journal has never been translated into English.21 Although he had not met Hara before traveling to his estate, Freer explained in letters home that the Yokohama collector had invited him for an extended visit “be- cause of my love for and care of Japanese art.”22 As Christine Guth has pointed out, Hara was well aware of Freer’s recent bequest to the Smithsonian, and his interest in establishing a connection to Freer was prompted not only by common aesthetic interests but by diplomatic ones as well: the display of Japanese art in a public mu- seum in Washington might enhance cultural and political relations between the two countries.23 The two men could, therefore, approach each other on more or less equal terms. With that in mind, it is interesting to return to the archival photograph. On the far right, in traditional worker’s clothing, is one of Freer’s jinrikisha drivers. This man, alone among the group in remaining unidentified, gazes off to the side, some- what detached from the others, who, in spite of their differences, are part of an elite world community enjoying the privileges of wealth, taste, and mobility.24

Travels to Asia Indeed, the theme of mobility and travel is another way of probing cosmopoli- tanism at the turn of the century. Among the most intriguing documents related to Freer’s travel in Japan, which he visited four times, are three letters from his first visit in 1895 that were written in the traditional Japanese manner, in a scroll format with a brush dipped in ink. Based on the content of the letters, Freer seems to have adopted the format to evoke the “life of old Japan,” an idealized realm that was also already an object of nostalgic desire. “The more closely I follow Japanese customs,” he wrote to his business partner Frank Hecker, “. . . the greater my pleasure.” The letter continues:

224 East–West Interchanges in American Art When a real Jap—(not the half Europeanized cuss.) wants to have a good time . . . he hies himself to the country, and the great temples, and picturesque little spots in the mountains and along the seashore where he always manages to have a gigantic hurrah—Ample opportunities exist and everything goes—no not every thing!! seriousness, care for the next days [sic] head or the bank acct. are always barred—And this was the life of old Japan and this explains their love for the butterfly in their an- cient art—Butterflies they themselves would now be if free from foreign influence, foreign imitation—a simple, light-hearted, and tremendously artistic people—I wonder what they will be a century hence?25

Writing to Dwight Tryon around the same time, Freer enunciated a similar idea, again utilizing the ink, brush, and scroll format. Acknowledging that “the two months I have passed in this country have sufficed to shatter some of my old time idols,” he nevertheless emphasized that during his time in a “beautiful little house” at Ama-no Hashdate, “here is rest—and real Japanese life.” That idyllic experience, or at least a memory of it, would ultimately join other “shadowy recollections of unknown places, glimpses of faraway coasts and strange horizons” in that “mysteri- ous something which . . . we call the imagination.”26 A letter from Freer’s second trip to Japan in 1907, written in a conventional Western format and roughly contemporaneous with the group photograph dis- cussed above, finds him exclaiming over encroaching modernity: “What changes! I could not believe my eyes—huge warehouses, immense chimneys, shipyards, iron foundries, a mammoth hotel half finished.” Contrasting the present reality to the now “shadowy recollections” of the 1895 trip, the letter continues, “Then pure air, birds and gentle courteous Japanese. Now, smoke, the roar of machinery and . . . crowd. . . . The change sickened me.”27 Freer’s ideas about Asia generally and Japan particularly, are clearly related, as Thomas Tweed has noted, to a particular type of spiritual questing, undertaken by many privileged Americans at the turn of the century. It is also, more generally, re- lated to strains of antimodernism in American culture that often expressed itself in a strangely eclectic mélange of cultural and historical references that were reified in the iconography of Orientalist painting as well as in the ostensibly more objective me- dium of photography. If imperialism and colonialism dominated Western—and es- pecially British—images of South Asia, tourism—and a coextensive desire for escape from more pressing realities at home—was the driving force behind much early pho- tographic imagery of East Asia, especially Japan. The museum’s archives are especially strong in this area, housing over over 125,000 photographic objects, mostly by Western

Stories of the Beautiful 225 4. Women Enjoying Tea on a Balcony, ca. 1890–1900. Hand-tinted albumen print. Mrs. Henry C. Norcross Collection of Early Photography of Japan, Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, Gift of Jean Leslie Norcross. photographers, related to travel, collecting, and studying Asia. It is instructive to see them in the context of Freer’s collecting practices and philosophies. For many wealthy Americans, travel to Asia was the late-nineteenth-century equivalent of the Grand Tour, and photography studios became a thriving indus- try, making and marketing extraordinarily high-quality souvenir prints and . Albums were especially popular among visitors, both authenticating and mediating their actual experiences. Like contemporary painters influenced by Orientalism and , photographers working in Japan for a Western market were typically interested in Asian subjects for their romantic or scientific value. Many of the pho- tographs of Japan from the Henry and Nancy Rosin Collection and the Mrs. Harry C. Norcross Collection fall into the former category. The beautifully hand-tinted albumen prints, especially images of traditionally dressed young women, capture ideal notions of femininity that resurface in countless American paintings of the period, including many works in the Freer collection (Figure 4).28 Much of the material discussed here relates mostly to Americans looking east and creating narratives about Asian lands and peoples that were useful to their own spiritual, intellectual, or economic needs. Yet identity formation through East–West interchange was not always controlled by Western expectations and markets. Official

226 East–West Interchanges in American Art 5. Xuling, The Empress Dowager Cixi with Foreign Envoys’ Wives in Leshoutang, Summer Palace, Beijing, 1903–1905. Glass plate negative. Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, Purchase. portraiture, for instance, is an area represented in the museum archives in which Asian subjects seem to have exerted a fair amount of control over their own image. In 1873 the photographer Uchida Kuichi produced a portrait of the Meiji emperor in the uniform, hairstyle, and pose of a Western military leader or aristocrat. The image em- bodies the Meiji equation of modernity with Western style, presenting the Emperor as part of a cosmopolitan array of colonial rulers. Perhaps the most famous example in the Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sack- ler Gallery of photography as a form of self-fashioning is a sequence of glass-plate negatives of the Chinese empress dowager, Cixi, by photographer Xuling. Taken around 1903, in the wake of the Boxer Rebellion, the photographs depict Cixi arrayed in all the trappings of imperial power. Borrowing and revising the conventions of Qing portrai- ture, these images were, as Virginia Anderson demonstrates in her essay, part of a larger campaign by the empress dowager to enhance her public image at home and abroad. As with the portrait by Hubert Vos, the photographs represent a vibrant collaboration be- tween Cixi and the photographer, who, interestingly, was trained in Western conventions of portraiture. The photographs circulated as gifts among the Empress’s own ministers and as presentations to foreign dignitaries as part of a personalized campaign in interna- tional diplomacy, which spawned yet another intriguing East–West interchange. As David

Stories of the Beautiful 227 Hogge has suggested, one of Cixi’s most willing accomplices in this enterprise was Sarah Pike Conger, the wife of an American envoy, whose involvement with the empress is recorded in a group photograph (Figure 5). Several years afterward, in 1905, William Howard Taft, then serving as secretary of war, embarked on a three-month diplomatic tour of Asia, visiting Japan, the Philippines, and China, where Cixi once again forged a tie to an American woman. Alice Roosevelt, the flamboyant and lovely daughter of Presi- dent Theodore Roosevelt, was part of the delegation, and her presence insured that the trip received significant publicity in America. While in China, Alice was presented with a brilliantly tinted photographic portrait of Cixi, delivered to her residence in a eunuch- borne litter. A collection of photographs from the Taft mission, including the image of Cixi, were recently donated to the museum, where they augmented a 2011 exhibition exploring the photographic images of the dowager empress.29 Craig Calhoun has observed that in the wake of neoliberal policies of global- ization and the rise of internet-based connectivity, cosmopolitanism is, once again, “in fashion.” Indeed, exploring connections across vast distances of time, space, and cultural difference can, as Partha Mitter suggests, create dynamic intellectual and artistic contact zones in which traditional power relationships and hierarchies are in- terrogated and, perhaps, creatively subverted. Yet as Mitter and others have cautioned, cosmopolitanism is also a privileged position: it carries with it the danger of confus- ing particular experiences of diversity, mobility, and access with essential truths about the world as a whole.30 The talks at the 2009 conference and the essays included here attempt to circumvent this kind of totalizing thinking and acknowledge that the investigation of East–West interchange is necessarily open-ended and ongoing, with continuously shifting parameters and competing visual narratives. Much as Charles Lang Freer may have wanted to create a narrative of cosmopolitan beauty that was “already complete,” the museum that he founded remains an open book, its resources a rich mine of material for subsequent chapters of East–West interchange.

Notes I acknowledge David Hogge and Rachael Woody, who contributed to this essay with their research, analysis, and expert organization of the materials in the Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives. All archival material discussed is from the Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, unless otherwise noted. 1. This slogan dates to the reopening of the Freer in 1993 following a five-year renovation and expansion that connected the museum, via subterranean exhibition space, to the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, which had opened in 1987. 2. Steven Conn, “Where Is the East?: Asian Objects in American Museums, from Nathan Dunn to Charles Freer,” Winterthur Portfolio 35:2/3 (Summer-Autumn 2000): 157–73, at 171, 170, doi:10.1086/496822; see also Andrew McClellan, “A Brief History of the Art Museum Public,” in Art and Its Publics: Museum Studies at the Millennium, ed. Andrew McClellan (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2003), 1–49, for a broader account of the shift toward cosmopolitan aestheticism in American art museums in the early decades of the twentieth century.

228 East–West Interchanges in American Art 3. James McNeill Whistler, “Ten O’Clock” lecture, in The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, 1892, (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1967), 159; Charles Lang Freer to Samuel P. Langley, December 27, 1904, Charles Lang Freer Papers. 4. Material Papers Relating to the Freer Gift and Bequest, “The First Codicil” (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution, 1928), 14. 5. See Thomas Lawton, “The Asian Tours,” in Lawton and Linda Merrill, Freer: A Legacy of Art (Washington, DC: Freer Gallery of Art, 1993), 59–60. 6. Mieke Bal, “Telling Objects: A Narrative Perspective on Collecting,” in The Cultures of Collecting, ed. John Elsner and Roger Cardinal (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press), 97–115, at 101. 7. James McNeill Whistler to Charles Lang Freer, July 29, 1899, in With Kindest Regards: The Correspondence of Charles Lang Freer and James McNeill Whistler, 1890–1903, ed. Linda Merrill (Washington, DC: Freer Gallery of Art, 1995), 123; Freer to John Gellatly, April 5, 1904, Freer Papers, Letterpress Book 9:13. 8. The Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery library has been collecting works by and about Whistler since 1923, adding to an already substantial collection amassed by Freer himself. For a summary of the Marks Collection, see Reiko Yoshimura’s blog entry, “Paul Marks Collection on Whistler,” at http://smithsonianlibraries.si.edu/smithsonianlibraries/2010/08/paul-marks-collection- on-whistler.html. 9. See, for instance, John Sandberg, “’Japonisme’ and Whistler,” Burlington Magazine 106 (November 1964): 500–507; Toshio Watanabe, High Victorian Japonisme, Swiss Asian Studies, vol. 10 (New York and Bern: P. Lang, 1991); Linda Merrill, “Whistler and the ‘Lange Lijzen,’” Burlington Magazine 136 (October 1996): 683–90; and Ayako Ono, Japonisme in Britain: Whistler, Menpes, Henry, Hornel and Nineteenth- Century Japan (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003). The definitive history of the Peacock Room is Linda Merrill, The Peacock Room: A Cultural Biography (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1998). 10. Entries for 7 and 8 December 1941, Freer Gallery of Art Diaries. Thanks to Blythe McCarthy for calling these entries to my attention. 11. Theodore Child, “American Artists at the Paris Exhibition” Harper’s Magazine 79 (September 1889): 492; Royal Cortissoz, “Freer Museum Soon to Be Built in Washington,” New York Tribune, 15 December 1915. 12. See Mary Ellen Haywood, “The Influence of the Classical Oriental Tradition on American Painting,” Winterthur Portfolio 14 (Summer 1979): 107–42; Linda Merrill, “Composing the Collection,” in Lawton and Merrill, 191–97; and Vivien Greene, “Aestheticism and Japan: The Cult of the Orient,” in Alexandra Munroe, The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia, 1860–1989 (New York: Guggenheim Museum, 2009): 59–71. 13. For an account of these screens, see Mitsutoshi Oba, “Eclectic Symbolism: The Interplay of Japonisme and Classicism in the Folding Screens by Thomas Wilmer Dewing, 1896–1900,” Ph.D. dissertation (City University of New York, 2004), 69–90.­ 14. See Linda Merrill, “The American Renaissance,” in Lawton and Merrill, 174, and “Art Inventories (American, European, Asian and Eastern Art), 1896–1921,” and “Catalogue of Paintings on Screens and Panels by Japanese and Chinese Artists,” Freer Papers. 15. A more general account of Whistler’s importance to Japan is in Ayako Ono, “Whistler’s Japanese Connections,” in James McNeill Whistler in Context: Essays from the Whistler Centenary Symposium, University of Glasgow, 2003, ed. Lee Glazer et al., Freer Gallery of Art Occasional Papers, New Series 2 (Washington, DC: Freer Gallery of Art, 2008), 95–104. 16. See Joan B Mirviss et al., Printed to Perfection: Twentieth-century Japanese Prints from the Robert O. Muller Collection (Washington, DC: Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, 2004) for an overview of the collection and its history. On the complex visual narratives related to East Asia and modernity in Japan, see Visualizing Cultures: Image Driven Scholarship at http://ocw.mit.edu/ ans7870/21f/21f.027/home/index.html. 17. Charles Moore, “Memoirs,” 280, Charles Moore Papers, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, Washington, DC. 18. See, for instance, Freer to Dwight William Tryon, 3 August 1907, Freer Papers, where he compares Tryon’s painting The Sea: Evening to “the great Masters of the early Kano-school—Sesshu, Sesson and Masunobu . . . [and to] an ink drawing of a huge waterfall by a Sung painter called Okamatsu [sic].”

Stories of the Beautiful 229 19. See Thomas Lawton, “Nomura Yo-zo-: A Bridge Across the Pacific,” Orientations 36:3 (April 2005): 51–62. 20. My reading of this photograph is indebted to Christine Guth, “Charles Longfellow and Okakura Kakuzo-: Cultural Cross-Dressing in the Colonial Context,” positions 8:3 (Winter 2000): 605–36. doi:10.1215/10679847-8-3-605. 21. See Nomura Michi, Sekai isshu nikki [Diary of a Journey around the World] (Tokyo: Asahi Newspaper Co., 1908). I am grateful to Takako Sarai for translating this text and researching its author’s biography. 22. Freer to Tryon, 7 July 1907, Freer Papers. 23. See Christine Guth, “A Tale of Two Collectors: Hara Tomitaro- and Charles Lang Freer,” Asian Art and Culture 4:4 (Fall 1991): 29–49. 24. My understanding of cosmopolitanism is deeply influenced by Craig Calhoun, especially “The Class Consciousness of Frequent Travelers: Toward a Critique of Actually Existing Cosmopolitanism,” South Atlantic Quarterly 101: 4 (2003): 869–97, and “Cosmopolitanism in the Modern Social Imaginary,” Daedalus (Summer 2008): 105–14. doi:10.1162/daed.2008.137.3.105. 25. Freer to Frank J. Hecker, June 26,1895. Freer Papers. 26. Freer to Tryon, June 17, 1895, Tryon Papers. 27. Freer to Dwight William Tryon, April 15, 1907, Freer Papers. 28. On the intersection Japanese imagery and ideals of femininity, see Eunyoung Cho, “The Selling of Japan: Race, Gender, and Cultural Politics in the American Art World, 1876–1915” (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Delaware, 1998), and Mari Yoshihara, Embracing the East: White Women and American Orientalism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003). 29. See the Alice Roosevelt Longworth Collection of the Taft Mission. I rely here on conversations with Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery archivist David Hogge, whose considerable research on the topic was showcased in the 2011 exhibition. 30. On the resurgence of cosmopolitanism in the twenty-first century, see Calhoun, “Cosmopolitanism in the Modern Social Imaginary,” especially 106–10, and Anthony Appiah, Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2006), especially xi–xiii.

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